


Days of Future Past

by faerywhimsy (persephone20)



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-31
Updated: 2011-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 07:19:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephone20/pseuds/faerywhimsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles receives a message from the future. It's bad, and leads Charles to searching out an old friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days of Future Past

"I'm sorry, Xavier. I'd hate to give anyone this news. Most of all you."

Charles just nodded his head. "Don't fear, Bishop. The X-Men will find a way to stop this. They always do."

"My thoughts are with you, then. Anything you can do..." Bishop took a look behind him, gazing into some distance Charles couldn't make out. The mutant from the future shook his head. "It's gotta be better than this."

"We will do our best," Charles assured, then the mind link cut out.

Only after he could no longer feel Bishop's worries, and Bishop could no longer feel Charles, did Charles drop the demeanour that was so important in assuring faith whenever Charles interacted with other mutants. For a full mutant, he allowed himself to dwell in the bleak future that Bishop had painted out for him.

 _Mutant cells.... Anyone they perceive as a threat is eliminated before they get there... got these ways of neutralising mutants... dead, everyone from the X-Men is dead.... We lost the war, Xavier._

Well, they hadn't lost the war yet. Bishop's warning meant nothing more than that they needed to change the rules by which they played. Only then might they stand a chance to avert the future that awaited them.

At any other time, Charles might have called Jean, asked her to bring Scott with her. The students who had been with him the longest were invaluable in setting these kind of situations to rights, suiting the X-Men to the jobs they were best suited for and deploying them expediently. No deaths on their watch.

And Charles would keep it that way.

For a while now, Forge had been working on bionic leg supports that would free Charles from his wheelchair. He'd been loathe to use them a great deal, having gotten used to the wheel chair after 10 years; having grown almost comfortable in it.

More than one thing was about to change this day.

It was time to visit an old friend.

*

It was a different man that Erik saw standing before him. The last time Erik had seen Charles Xavier had been on a beach in the middle of the first wave of the war between humans and mutants. Over the years, he'd twisted the truth of that afternoon in his head, morphing it until it represented something more palatable to his senses. Charles had been a fool to side with the humans and, for that, he'd been punished. That was how the use of his legs had been taken away from him. Seeing Charles standing in front of him now brought all of that back.

He had no way to ascertain if that mask went any further than skin deep. Of course he wasn't going to take off his helmet. Erik already felt fragile enough, face to face with his old friend after so long. He wasn't going to give Charles any further openings. No, Charles would have to do the convincing on his own.

Erik eyed the devises on each of Charles legs, devises that had allowed him to walk here.

"You can let him go," Erik said to the guards he'd had escort Charles to his room, confident that the amount of metal in those braces would help him incapacitate his old friend, were it needed.

His guards never second guessed his orders and didn't start now. Charles drew himself up subtly, as though there had never been guards and he had never been manhandled into this room.

"Erik," Charles said, and his voice was full of feeling. Feelings Erik stomped down on when they rose up in him in response. "It's been too long."

"I could have made better braces for your legs," he informed him.

"You probably could, at that," Charles said.

His smile was unchanged, though there were more lines around his eyes and mouth, just as there was less hair atop his head. Not balding. Not yet.

"What have you come here to see me for, Charles?" Erik walked out from behind his desk. He couldn't stand there this entire meeting and staying there for much longer would seem like he was hiding by keeping the table between them. His voice was weary as he asked the question. "As you say, it's been a long time."

"I have had news," Charles said quietly, and it was like they were both in their mid 20s once again, sharing stories about the world as they envisioned it to one day be. Only they weren't in their mid 20s anymore. The world had gone on around them. And it wasn't like either one of them had envisioned.

"Oh?" Erik tried not to sound too interested.

"Yes." Charles didn't view Erik askance, didn't ask if he could trust him. For him, his decision had been made long before he had come here. "I've had telepathic communication from a mutant 20 years into the future. His name is Bishop, and he brought me news of the war."

Erik stayed silent for a moment. He didn't need telepathic messages to tell him about the war. Unlike Charles, Erik had been affected by the last war. Humans would so readily turn on each other; of course they would turn on the mutants. They would tell themselves that they had so much more reason to hate and fear the mutants than they'd ever had to hate the Jews. And this was another war his people would lose. That was a fact already, in his mind, unless the mutants rallied together to stand unified against the human threat.

Charles looked to Erik. When it became clear the other man was not about to speak, Charles continued. "It ends long before 20 years' time, but the aftershocks go on. It is a war we lose, Erik."

"Well, what did you bloody well expect?" Veins popped out around Erik's forehead. He could not keep this to himself any longer. Instead of merely pausing near his table, he started pacing. Every footstep was furious, punctuating each of his terrible words. "Your talk of saving the humans. Looking after the humans. Showing the humans that mutants aren't a danger to them! It was never about us being a danger to them, Charles. You did this to us! You!"

Charles bowed his head long before Erik's tirade was done. Erik shook with the force of his fear, fear he had long since turned into hatred, because hatred turned into anger which was by far the more useful emotion. They were just two men who had been sucked into a war much bigger than both of them.

"I know."

Charles' words were spoken so softly that Erik almost didn't hear them. The tone was so like the tone of voice he'd once heard in his head, before he started wearing this helmet to protect him from mutants like Charles, other telepaths who could get into his head and distract him from his purpose. Because he had always known what Charles was just now realising. The importance of this war. The importance of winning.

"There can be no compromise." Erik's voice was heavy, but he wasn't shouting this time. Couldn't shout. Not when Charles already seemed so cowered. If only this message had come to him 10 years ago. 10 wasted years. Well, Erik couldn't do anything about that, but he could make sure Charles understood now.

Concentrating on gentling his footsteps, on leashing his anger, Erik stepped towards Charles. He didn't like to think of what further damage he could do to Charles' legs, encased in enabling metal as they were, if he didn't keep a leash on his emotions. Charles had once shown him how to reach the depth of the powers he possessed. He did not know first hand how they had grown over the years.

"Charles... I need to know. Does this mean that you are on board with us? That you believe in our mission? That you see it is the only way?" Erik was trying to temper down his vehemence, knowing as he did that the force that simply was Magneto and Erik Lensherr had pushed away more than one mutant in the past. But surely Charles knew better than that. Charles knew _him_.

"Yes..." Charles lifted his head and looked Erik directly in the eyes. "I know you."

A look of confusion crossed Erik's eyes. "How...?"

Charles gave a sad little smile. "I don't need to be inside your head to know what you're thinking." And he'd only ever used that knowledge against Erik when it had been the life of one of his X-Men that was at stake. Now, he knew he would never use anything against Erik again.

Erik couldn't help it. In one motion, the helmet he'd worn for the last 10 years was lifted and thrown across the room and Charles was in his arms. Charles lifted his face eagerly towards the kiss that was as instinctual as breathing and 10 long years and more in the waiting. How had he travelled so from his best friend?

 

Never again, Charles thought when he was able to think again. He stared at Erik, seeing again that unguarded, almost hopeful look in this man whom he'd loved almost half his life. He would contact his X-Men, let them know what the change of plan was, and why.

But later. All of that could come later. As he sighed into Erik, learning him in new ways he'd never dared ask of before, he thought just a little while later wouldn't matter.


End file.
